"No?" he remarked. "Well, then, maybe it's fair for me to make another guess." A twinkle shone now in his clear eyes. "Judging from the face that the moon just lighted up there in the bow of your snapper, I don't believe I'd be far wrong in judging ye two to be worldly folks that think a squire's good as a parson. What mout you're name be, stranger?" At this blunt demand, Garnet again showed traces of embarrassment, but these endured only for an instant. He realized that in this place so remote from the ordinary lanes of travel there could be little danger in divulging his identity. So he spoke with brisk confidence. "My name, sir, is Gifford Garnet, I am a physician. The young lady lying in the launch yonder is my patient. We were so unfortunate as to be wrecked while on a yacht cruising in the waters to the south of here. We are now on our way northward, bound for one of the larger towns, where we shall be able to get transportation home. The young lady is suffering from an injured ankle, and, too, she has been for some time unconscious from a blow on the head received while we were escaping from the yacht. It is only within the last hour that she has seemed to be again quite normal. We were obliged to lay to in the lower section of the Sound for several hours, waiting for the weather to moderate. Otherwise we would not have been obliged to put in here and beg you for food and lodging. If you can take care of us over night I shall be only too glad to pay you for your hospitality." "Pay me for my hospitality!" the Squire exclaimed indignantly. "That's something in my locality that's never been for sale, and can't be bought. You-all must be from the North. I've heard folks from the outside say that folks up there pay for everything, even for a place to hang their hats in public houses. Folks that pay for everything they get lose all love for each other." His tone changed abruptly, and he spoke authoritatively. "Get that young woman out o' the boat and after I make another dip, I'll take ye up and show ye one shack where hospitality ain't for sale. And when you go please remember that you don't leave under any obligation to Squire Goodwin. I will say though, if ye ever catch me in you-all's fix, and ye he'p me out, then I won't offer to pay you for your hospitality. I just don't believe in it!" The Squire skipped back to his firelight, and the Doctor watched him toss four flopping, wriggling beauties upon the wharf. As the fish fell from the net, the Squire shouted triumphantly: "Say, Doctor, there's a mornin' meal you-all can't pay for!"